About a week ago, our young dog meandered into my son’s room and the unmistakable stench, similar to rotting fish stung our nostrils. Any dog owner knows that smell – overfilled anal glands. For some reason, dogs seem to dig it, but it’s straight up horrible and doesn’t go away magically, so I called the vet. With two kids and a full work life, it’s a pain in the rear to try and fly over on my lunch or go in on a Saturday, so my wife and I thought, why not have them teach me how to take care of this pungent mess myself?
I watched a YouTube video – yes, there are several on this wonderful topic, and nearly vomited. Surely it’s easier than this…what is that greyish brown…oh God…I can’t even smell this video… I got to the vet this week and met the tech. “So what we do is the internal method because it works much better.” Um, how about the extra external method, like I do this from outside the neighborhood or outer space? She smiled and kept going. “You need gloves, some lube… “Just like last weekend, amirite? Ah, no high five back. Continue.” OK, I didn’t really say that, I was too horrified to speak. “Then you insert your thumb in the…(she paused) anus and feel around the 5 and 7 o’clock positions for a raisin.” I hated raisins before this, I really do now. “How about I do the first one, then you.” Oh goody. Let’s rip this bandage off.
The first one went great for her, but the small room filled with a stench five times worse than the fish smell from the night before. The gag reflex was barely subdued. “Now it’s your turn!” I put both gloves on and went after it. Nothing happened. “Is that it? Did I do it right? (I knew I didn’t) “No, try to feel for the raisin.” Again with the damn raisin. Haven’t you done enough, making me think you’re chocolate chips, you son of bitch hasbeen grape? I tried again and suddenly thick, viscous brownish liquid sprayed, I mean really sprayed out from my dog’s sour flower like a skunk blast. I saw it cover the paper towel on the floor and her fur. The reeking odor, once overwhelming, now stung my lungs as I tried not to breathe. The deed was done and no one was happy about it. “You got it!” Oh I sure did, lady, I sure did.
I finally got out of the stank chamber and paid my bill. $18. You know what, I think I’ll find time on my lunch break to make this visit happen next time. You could add a zero to that bill, ma’am, I’ll be back next time too.